t it was a bitter, mirthless
sound, as he replied, "I tell you, lads, I'm done with you all, so
clear out; and I'll bide here till morning."

"Well, do as you d---- please," the one addressed answered, and then
a scuffling of feet echoed in the passage and went noisily down the
stair. Nancy waited until they had closed the entrance door behind
them, and then she stole out on tiptoe into the hallway. The door of
the room which they left was ajar, and the lamp's rays struck out
brightly from it. She stepped over and looked in cautiously. As she
expected, young John was still there, seated tightly against the table,
a pile of cards and some stained glasses in front of him. Something in
his hand, and on which he was bestowing much attention, made her gulp
down a sudden choking sensation.

"Give me that gun, Johnny," she called, softly.

[Illustration: "'Give me that gun, Johnny,' she called, softly."]

"God! how you frightened me!" the young man ejaculated, as he wheeled
around, and then continued shamefacedly: "I was just thinking of my
mother, and wondering if she could see me now, when you spoke. I
almost thought it was her voice."

Nancy stood over him, her masterful eyes looking into his, and her
great hand reaching outwards. He laughed recklessly, but he handed her
the weapon.

"Now, Johnny, I want ye to tell me all about it," she said, quietly.

"Mrs. McVeigh, I don't deserve your kindness. I'm not fit. But you
are the only person in the world to whom I can turn. Those cads who
just left me fleece me to my face, and then tell me I'm a fool to let
them do it. My father has no faith in me. He never tried to find out
if there was any good in my rotten carcass. And there is another who
has weighed me in the balance of her judgment and found me sadly
wanting."

"Now, Johnny, it's no like yerself to be talkin' like that. Haven't I
told ye that yer conscience would rise up and smite ye. It's yer own
fault that yer frien's are droppin' from ye like rats from a sinkin'
ship. Yer plan o' life has been wrong, an' yer friends have been a
curse to ye, an' it's only yer manhood and that gal who kin save ye
now." A fire burned in Nancy's eyes as she gazed at him, and John
Keene felt a thrill of power, as if her strength was eating into his
veins.

"You don't know the worst, Mrs. McVeigh, but I am ready to confess, and
I don't expect you to pity me after I have spoken. I have cashed a
forged note agains